UNDER AND ABOVE
from 
JoeUser Forums
JoeUser Forums
I wrote this after last Sunday's incident a bus. I don't really believe this of my city, but I think it is true, in some respects, of every city. It seems to me the more closer we live together, the harder it is for us to live together.
Underneath, there is a fluid
Running through the soil and sandstone
Blood dark and rich with tales
Buried deep and weighed down with buildings
Above, roads and footpaths, the gardens and parks
Are this city’s epidermis, its thick skin
Waiting for the needles of progress
To pierce it and draw the hidden secrets out
Underneath, there is staunched growth
Wrapped up tight by the weeds
Of services deemed essential
Cables, wires, sewer pipes and fibre optics
Above, we’re the living remnants
Of the heroes who made this place a city
Weakened by modern excess
We seem incapable of continuing their good work
Underneath, there is a mordant smell
Seeping up like flatulence from the disturbed earth
It rises above the city lines
And hangs in the sky like a putrescent smog
Above, edifices like melanomas on the landscape
Spread and stain the hills and valleys
Leak sickness into rivers and oceans
The only life is the diseases we’ve introduced
We don’t erect statues to our heroes anymore
Instead, we build malls and car parks,
We let heritage be remodelled in apartments
To suit gallery viewing and short attention spans
Under and above, it is all the same
We lie awake at night listening to the sirens of trouble
Scream past and beyond to the fire
And silently give thanks the sirens aren't coming for us
This time...
Underneath, there is a fluid
Running through the soil and sandstone
Blood dark and rich with tales
Buried deep and weighed down with buildings
Above, roads and footpaths, the gardens and parks
Are this city’s epidermis, its thick skin
Waiting for the needles of progress
To pierce it and draw the hidden secrets out
Underneath, there is staunched growth
Wrapped up tight by the weeds
Of services deemed essential
Cables, wires, sewer pipes and fibre optics
Above, we’re the living remnants
Of the heroes who made this place a city
Weakened by modern excess
We seem incapable of continuing their good work
Underneath, there is a mordant smell
Seeping up like flatulence from the disturbed earth
It rises above the city lines
And hangs in the sky like a putrescent smog
Above, edifices like melanomas on the landscape
Spread and stain the hills and valleys
Leak sickness into rivers and oceans
The only life is the diseases we’ve introduced
We don’t erect statues to our heroes anymore
Instead, we build malls and car parks,
We let heritage be remodelled in apartments
To suit gallery viewing and short attention spans
Under and above, it is all the same
We lie awake at night listening to the sirens of trouble
Scream past and beyond to the fire
And silently give thanks the sirens aren't coming for us
This time...
